


Call Me a Safe Bet (I'm Betting I'm Not)

by Syntheticpalindromes



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Pete in a skirt, Rimming, but it's not really crossdressing, iDK tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1424527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntheticpalindromes/pseuds/Syntheticpalindromes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{Set during the Folie A Deux tour}</p><p>Somewhere along the road for their tour for Folie, Charlie thought it would be a hilarious idea to set a challenge for any guy who wanted to try and fulfill it.</p><p>The challenge stood:</p><p>Eat every burger on the menu at whatever burger place is closest to the latest venue in the space of fifteen minutes and $50 is your prize<br/>If you lose, you have to wear an article of Charlie’s choosing for the rest of the day</p><p>Patrick assumed that, with the prize only being $50, Pete would gloss over and find Dirty somewhere to bully and drink with.</p><p>However, he did not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me a Safe Bet (I'm Betting I'm Not)

Patrick can’t count the amount of dares that Pete has agreed to do in this life.

There are far too many to even begin to think about, most of the entirely disgusting and crude, but for once; this one isn’t.

Mostly it’s just stupid.

Somewhere along the road for their tour for Folie, Charlie thought it would be a hilarious idea to set a challenge for any guy who wanted to try and fulfill it.

The challenge stood:

 

  * Eat every burger on the menu at whatever burger place is closest to the latest venue in the space of fifteen minutes and $50 is your prize

  * If you lose, you have to wear an article of Charlie’s choosing for the rest of the day




 

Patrick assumed that, with the prize only being $50, Pete would gloss over and find Dirty somewhere to bully and drink with.

However, he did not.

And so there was Patrick, feeling queasy as Pete tried to devour every single burger on this shitty diner’s menu, which for a diner, was way too many burgers to be normal.

Patrick grimaced as Pete took a sip of coke and wiped some mayonnaise from his mouth, “How you doing buddy?”

Pete swallowed and grinned, until Patrick made a noise and pointed at his teeth, “You got something here?”

   
Pete scrubbed at his teeth and bared them again, saying through them, “How about now?”

   
Patrick sighed and leaned his head on his hand, “Yeah. Continue.”

 

~*~

   
Twenty minutes later Pete was almost crying as he sat on the tarmac outside the diner, lunch time streams of people passing them as Patrick patted his back, “It was a stupid bet anyway dude.”

 

~*~

   
Charlie literally hollered with laughter at the sight of Pete’s grumpy, and vaguely sick, face as he handed over a tiny pleated leather skirt.

   
“Charlie this is ridiculous. He’s got to play tonight in front of an arena of thousands of kids and they’re all going to be taking up skirt shots of him and putting them on the internet.”

   
Charlie smirked, “Serves him right for being a sucker for a bad bet.”

   
Pete sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s not even about the skirt itself. Shit. I’ve worn weirder things and you know I’m all about not gendering clothing but...Think about the internet pictures. I can feel them opening their photoshops already for this one.”

   
Patrick touched Pete’s shoulder sympathetically, “It might….be okay? Like...You could just wear pants underneath and tuck it up into your shirt or something?”

   
He turned to Charlie and gave him pleading eyes, eyebrows raising up so they were almost underneath the brim of his cap.

   
Charlie considered this for a second and then shook his head, “You can wear like...leggings or some shit under it. But other than that, it’s gotta be kept on show. Look, a bet is a bet.”

   
Pete nodded, defeated, hand clutching the material of the skirt, “Well...At least it’s good quality.”

   
Patrick made a nervous noise and followed Pete out of the lounge area, getting a few odd looks from the hair and makeup team, one of which whispered to Pete as they left, “I can do you make up really nice tonight if it’ll help with the get up?”

   
Pete gave her a small smile and nodded, “Uh...yeah. Thanks.”

   
Patrick was mostly just glad that Pete was as cool as he was with wearing clothes deemed for females.

   
He supposed Pete did wear girl jeans a whole lot.

   
Maybe he was used to it by now.

 

~*~

   
Joe swung a leg up so he was sat cross legged on the couch, watching as Pete wriggled the quite frankly tight as all fuck skirt into place, eyebrows knitting as he turned to stare at his behind in the semi length mirror.

   
“You do kind of have the ass for it. Like, it fits nicely.”

  
Pete shot Joe a dirty look and Andy giggled in the corner around a mouthful of kale chips.

   
Patrick tried to calm Pete with a weak offering of, “He’s got a point, at least it looks like you’re wearing it for a reason. To make yourself look good. Right? If you go out on stage and act as if you didn’t do this for a dare and it’s just another PeteWentzThing then everyone will accept it. Dude, it’s literally just a piece of fabric.”

   
Pete put his hands on his hips, lip caught between his teeth, “I...Guess.” He huffed out a breath and pointed at Joe, “No more comments on my ass though. Making me uncomfortable here.”

   
Joe raised his hands, “Whatever man.”

   
And with that he went back to messing with the ends of his jacket, fiddling with the material until Andy had to come over and help him roll his sleeves up like a little kid getting dressed in the morning.

   
Patrick gave them a soft look before turning his attention back to Pete, “So...On in an hour then?”

   
Pete nodded stiffly, looking for once in his life like he wasn’t in control of his surroundings, maybe even out of his depth a little and Patrick had to frown because in the end, it was just a skirt.

   
Nothing life or death.

   
He cupped Pete’s elbow gently and murmured, “You wanna head over to hair and make up?”

   
Pete nodded again, giving himself one last look in the mirror, adjusting the pair of skin tight, faux leather pants he’d found to wear, which to be fair, looked kind of just like a pair of tights or leggings.

   
Pete had gotten lucky there.

   
At least, so far he had.

 

~*~

   
The hair and makeup girls cooed over Pete, as predicted, doing his hair a lot better than Pete could ever do on his own with a can of hairspray and his flat iron.

   
Before Patrick was being whisked away to his own room to get glamorized and sprayed with the longest lasting deodorant they could find, he caught a glimpse of Pete being brushed over the eyelids with something colourful and his breath caught in his throat.

   
Pete’s eyes slid up as he was being ushered out the door and he gave Patrick a tiny smile, nothing huge like he was used to from Wentz.

   
His mouth went dry.

 

~*~

   
After various vocal warm ups and prepping and re-prepping and everything, they were finally ready to go out on stage.

   
Pete was sweating already though, hands clenched at his side with his bangs swept over and eye makeup looking perfect and matted down with powder and everything.

   
The hair and makeup team really did go all out.

   
Patrick swallowed and followed after Pete on stage, pointedly not looking at the curve of where his thighs met his ass as the skirt drifted up with the speed of his walking.

 

He really wished that Charlie had gotten it in an actual male size.

 

~*~

   
By the time they were into it and playing, Pete had totally forgotten about the skirt, waving it off at the beginning of the gig by saying into the mic casually, “I swapped up my tour clothes and I hope you guys really like it. It’s pleather if you were wondering.”

   
He had wiggled his eyebrows and lifted the sides to do a little curtsey while Patrick laughed into his own mic.

   
After that, the crowd had only reacted to changes in songs and the general buzz of the arena.

   
It was so large after all, that Patrick guessed that most of the kids, even the ones who had a good view of the screen, probably couldn’t see the skirt clearly.

   
Not at clearly as he could see it.

   
Every once in a while when Pete bounced during a song, it would fly up and show off his ass even more in those tight pants.

   
Patrick had to stop himself from getting distracted through at least three different songs and every time it was Pete drifting around him.

   
Giving him this look.

   
Patrick’s eyes darted back to the crowd, but not in time to miss Pete attempting something he’d only seen from Lynz Way.

   
Pete only got halfway through the back bend, skirt showing the crowd, and Patrick, a large section of crotch enveloped by pleather underneath.

   
He snapped back up, panting and laughing at the crowd who cheered at his gallant attempt.

   
Patrick croaked out the notes.

   
This was torture.

 

~*~

  
  
By the time Saturday came around Patrick was hot under the collar and Pete was all over him.

   
Pressing into his neck with his mouth, like he usually did, but this time he was whispering.

   
“I like it.”

   
“I should wear the skirt more.”

   
“Best bet ever, Trick.”

   
“Help me take it off afterwards.”

   
Patrick’s voice broke a little on the last note of the song but the crowd didn’t notice, they just continued to scream on long after the lights had gone up and the band was retreating backstage.  
 

Patrick wiped down his face, chugging on a bottle of water and accepting a pat on the back from both Andy and Joe.

   
Pete, however, was quieter.

   
Panting from the exertion of the performance and when the hallway was empty, he snaked a hand into the back of Patrick’s hair and slid their mouths together.

   
Pete’s hot and Patrick’s cool from the water.

   
Patrick groaned and let his hands travel directly to Pete’s thighs, petting at them and feeling the muscle bunch underneath his fingertips.

   
They broke apart and Patrick exhaled against Pete’s mouth, “Where did this come from?”

   
Pete shrugged, “I feel good in the skirt.”

   
Patrick cocked his head, then shook it and smiled, “Of course you do.”

   
Pete grinned and nudged his shoulder, “What I said about helping me get out of it...I...Uh...I really do need you to help. Sweaty as fuck skin and pleather don’t mix.”

   
Patrick laughed and tucked his face into Pete’s damp shoulder.

 

~*~

   
They stumbled back onto the bus, Andy surprisingly already asleep on the lounge couch, looking like he’d dropped as soon as he entered the bus.

   
Joe was curled around him, scrolling through something on his phone in the half light, and he gave Pete and Patrick a little grunt to acknowledge them, then went back to his phone.  
 

Somehow, Patrick didn’t think that they would be getting much disturbance from the two tonight.

   
Which was really fucking good.

   
He grinned and pulled Pete back into the back bedroom.

   
Covers strewn about the bed from where Pete had woken up and shoved them to the side.

   
Hemingway was ushered out of the room and into the bunk area, which he snuffled and grunted at until Pete lobbed a treat down the aisle and he was off, chasing after it at full speed.  
 

“You indulge that dog.” Patrick commented.

   
Pete raised an eyebrow, “Not as much as you indulge me.”

   
“True.”

   
They both smiled, softer this time, as Patrick sat down on the bed, Pete’s knees knocking against his.

   
“Okay so...you get the legging….things down. And then we can get the skirt off.”

   
Pete went slightly pink.

   
Patrick frowned, “What?”

   
“It’s just...I kinda wanna keep the skirt on dude.”

   
Patrick’s mouth went dry once more.

   
This time though, his dick gave an interested twitch.

   
“Oh...Yeah...Cool.”

   
His voice broke on the last syllable of ‘cool’ and Pete smirked, cupping his cheeks and kissing him long and soft.

   
It was the skirt, Patrick thought, making him nice and flowery and gentle with his kisses.

   
Patrick expected Pete to be rough and domineering almost but...He really liked this to.

   
He kind of wanted to fuck Pete like this.

   
So his voiced his opinion.

   
“I kind of want to fuck you like this.”

   
Pete choked on a moan and a hand shot down to press against the front of his crotch against the skirt, “Shit.”

   
“Is that a yes?”

   
Pete nodded jerkily, “Yes. Yes. Fuck.”

   
Patrick laughed breathily, “Okay but first, leggings and boxers.”

   
It actually was relatively easy to get the leggings down and when they were tossed to the side, Patrick grabbed at Pete’s ass and pushed up the fabric of the skirt, mouthing at Pete’s crotch through his boxers.

   
Pete inhaled and jittered his hips forward, knocking against Patrick’s glasses a little and making Patrick let out a small, broken laugh.

  
“Watch it asshole.”

   
Pete grinned and stroked his knuckles down Patrick’s cheek, “Sorry. Your fault though.” He stuck his tongue between his teeth, tucking his thumb against Patrick’s bottom lip, “I like your mouth.”  
 

Patrick went a significant shade of red and batted Pete’s hand away, “Idiot.”

   
Pete hummed and leaned down, smudging their mouths together and climbing into Patrick’s lap until Patrick had to stop him to shift backwards into the bed, till he was against the mass of pillows.

   
And this was exactly how Patrick thought something like this might happen.

   
Well, the skirt was a bit different but, still.

   
He rolled his hips against Pete’s and sank kisses into the hollow of his throat, whispering, “I’m glad.”

   
“Glad about what?”

   
“That you’re letting me do this.”

   
Pete’s eyes softened at that and he brushed their foreheads together, “Shut up man, you know I love you. Like, more than anything on this planet.”

 

Patrick nodded and answered, “Yeah.You’re sort of dumb that way.”

   
They both laughed into each other’s spaces and Pete managed to yank his shirt off, looking kind of ridiculous in socks, a skirt and some boxers.

   
Patrick rubbed his hands up and down Pete’s thighs, brushing against the fine hairs, “You might need to get up a second. I wanna get my jeans and shit off.”

   
Pete hesitated, liking his position on Patrick, before moving away; sitting back on his heels as he watched Patrick dragging down his jeans and getting his socks and jacket off.

   
He shuffled back, making a slight face when Pete fingered the bottom of his shirt, “C’mon. You’re so fucking hot. Lemme take it off.”

   
Patrick’s eyes darted past Pete entirely, staring at the closed door of the bedroom before he nodded once, and then Pete was pulling off the shirt and pushing Patrick onto his back.  
 

“Gonna blow you.”

   
Patrick exhaled, “Oh...Cool.”

   
Pete snorted out a laugh and secured his mouth over Patrick’s hip, dragging those perfect teeth across the fat there, making the singer sigh out and lift his hips up a little bit.

   
Pete’s eyes shut slowly, eyelids shut gently and not tight as he mouthed at the section of skin below Patrick navel, making it damp with saliva and hot with kisses.

   
He blinked up after a moment, smiling and tugging down Patrick’s boxers till they were tight around his spread thighs and Pete was going down on him.

   
Patrick would have been surprised if he wasn’t too caught up in tugging at Pete’s hair, brittle bangs and flat ironed mess sewn between his fingers as Pete swallowed him down.

   
He groaned and pressed his hips up, watching through slit eyes as Pete just made accommodations, covering whatever he couldn’t take with his mouth with his hand.

   
“Pete…”

   
Pete glanced up, mouth against his fist on Patrick’s cock.

   
He gave Patrick a questioning look and moved back, or at least far enough that he could talk and give a subtle little lick to the head of Patrick’s dick, “Yeah?”

   
“I wanna see you.”

   
Pete made a noise and swallowed, “Yeah. Okay.”

   
He pressed a kiss just below the head of Patrick’s cock, licking at the bead of pre-cum that came with that action.

   
Patrick grit his teeth and closed his fist around the base of himself to stop himself from just coming on Pete’s face, which, oh.

   
He wouldn’t mind trying that some other time.

   
But for now, Pete was shoving him out of the way and stretching out, pushing his head onto his arms and raising his hips.

   
“This good?”

   
Patrick made a pathetic noise and ran a hand over Pete’s exposed, yet clothed, ass, “Yeah...S’perfect. Shit. Are you sure you’re alright with this? I didn’t really...um...I didn’t expect…”

   
Pete turned his head and raised an eyebrow, “What? Didn’t expect me to be the kind of guy to want to have their best friend fuck them like this? That it?” He smiled lazily and moved a hand down to rub against the front of his boxers, “To be honest, I’m probably not dude. But, I wanna do it with you so bad.” He made a low noise and added, “And it’s not just the stupid fucking skirt, every time you get on stage and you get all into it and sweaty and your voice does that growling thing. Fuck. I have a hard fucking time not getting on my knees and sucking you off on stage. But usually common sense and the fact our PR lady would get mad if I do that, stops me.”

   
Patrick laughed high in the back of his throat and pet his hand across Pete’s back, “Shut up asshole. I’m not that hot.”

   
Pete made a noise of disagreement, “You are.”

   
Patrick rolled his eyes and stood from the bed, “Stay here. I gotta go check my bunk for...you know.”

   
Pete laughed and nodded, “Yeah.”

 

~*~

   
Patrick slid the door shut behind him, having pulled up his boxers and with the hope that Andy and Joe were still in the front because getting an eyeful of Patrick’s boner would be a bit annoying probably.

   
He shuffled the contents of his bunks pockets around, trying to find the bag where he kept his toiletries in, but mostly he was just finding cables.

   
It took a bit of searching but he found the bag underneath a jazz magazines which he had bought this morning and seemingly forgotten about.

   
He pried through the bag until he found his little bottle of travel sized lube, which he hoped was still alright considering he bought it way too long ago.

   
He considered sniffing some of it, but that seemed kind of weird, so he just took it and hurried back to the bedroom.

  
  


~*~

   
As he shut the door behind him again, he turned to find Pete texting, ass still in the air as he tapped out a message to someone.

   
“Who you texting?”

   
Pete hummed and said slowly, “Mom. Wants to know if I’ll be going there after the tours done. Think I might. Kinda miss Chicago.”

   
He shrugged, as well as he could in his position, then set the phone aside, reaching behind him to pull down his boxers and throw them to the side.

   
Patrick swallowed, “Please don’t talk about your mom and then do that. I’m getting mixed signals.”

   
Pete laughed, eyes bright, and shifted his hips, “C’mon.”

   
Patrick’s body seemed to move on it’s own, and as he knelt behind Pete, he brushed his thumb over his entrance, making Pete suck in a breath and go stiff all over.

   
Patrick cooed and stroked over his ass, “Dude, relax.”

   
Pete nodded and bowed his back a little more, relaxing when Patrick’s mouth ghosted over his ass, then tensing and giving a weak muffled cry when his tongue lapped against him.

   
“Holy shit.”

   
Patrick grinned and licked at him more, pushing up the skirt and moving his mouth against Pete’s ass.

   
Pete whined, mouth open as he pushed back against Patrick’s tongue, thighs spreading more, “Oh fuck. Could you always do this? When did you learn to do this? F-fuck.”

   
Patrick chuckled, the sound rumbling through Pete’s hips and he had to shut his mouth because he was close to drooling all over the bedspread.

   
He went slack slightly as Patrick moved to reach for the lube, uncapping it and getting it pretty much all over his hand with the fact he was shaking so much.

   
He managed to get a finger inside Pete, who scratched at the bedspread, moaning tight and high in the back of his throat when Patrick accompanied his finger with his tongue again.

   
“Do more.” Pete murmured weakly, voice muffled by his arms slightly.

   
Patrick kissed his tailbone and slipped the second, and then third finger into him, twisting them and spreading them apart till Pete was making noises so loud he was sure Andy and Joe could hear.

   
They had to be able to hear.

   
“Lemme up. I wanna go on my back.”

   
Patrick moved and allowed for Pete to shuffled onto his back, lying down and spreading his legs, skirt tented with his erection, probably smearing the fabric with pre-cum.

   
Patrick swallowed and stroked his wet hand over his own dick, balancing on the bed next to Pete’s head with his other hand.

   
Pete smirked up and wrapped his legs around Patrick’s waist, dragging him closer until Patrick could push the skirt up just far enough to rub himself against Pete’s ass.

   
Pete hissed and scrabbled at Patrick’s ass with blunt nails, “‘Trick.” The end syllable clicking almost painfully in his throat, “C’mon. In. Fuck me.”

   
Patrick huffed out a hot breath against his neck and, holding himself at the base, inched his way in; till his hips were settled against the soft curve of Pete’s ass and the skirt was brushing against his own skin.

   
He felt tight and hot inside.

   
He breathed in and then gave a shaky thrust, head dipping to press his already damp forehead against Pete’s collarbone, Pete’s fingers looping through his hair.

   
After a minute he was fucking up hard into Pete, making the bassist make the most pathetic noises, like he was being winded by every thrust and it made Patrick feel kind of awesome.  
 

He licked at one of Pete’s nipples and Pete cried out, squirming down against Patrick’s cock and arching his back to get closer to Patrick’s mouth.

   
“Touch me or I’m gonna hit you.”

   
Patrick laughed breathily, hips still moving and filling Pete up as he jerked him off quickly after licking his palm right in front of Pete’s eyes, which had made his eyes roll back and his mouth hang open in a weak moan.

   
Patrick could feel Pete clenching around him, especially when he flicked his wrist the perfect way on the upstroke on Pete’s dick.

   
“Trick.”

   
Patrick hummed and kissed at his neck, skin prickling with sweat, “Yeah?”

   
“You didn’t put a condom on.”

   
Patrick stilled for a second, till Pete whined and gripped at his hips, urging him to keep on fucking him, “No. I’m not complaining. I’m just saying. Keep going. Come in me.”

   
Patrick felt his guts twist possessively at that and he nodded, biting at Pete’s neck roughly and fucking him hard enough that it could and would leave bruises.

   
Pete all the while was still making choked off noises, little ah ah ah’s as Patrick fucked him, until the singer pressed his thumb into the space under the head of his dick.

   
He went still and then tilted his hips up high enough that Patrick almost lost his grip on him as he came on his stomach.

   
Patrick swallowed, “Shit.”

   
Pete laughed weakly and nodded, hands holding up the skirt so he could see Patrick’s dick moving in and out of him, “Yeah. Shit.”

   
Patrick wound a hand around Pete’s wrist, stomach clenching as he gasped and came in Pete, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

   
He hung his head until Pete leaned up and brushed his wispy hair from his eyes, “I got cum on the skirt.”

   
Patrick eyed Pete and then laughed, tired and way too sweaty, “Jackass.”

   
Pete touched at Patrick’s ass, rubbing at the small of his back, “Pull out now.”

   
Patrick nodded and rolled onto the side of the bed next to Pete, “Sorry about your bed.”

   
He gestured to the smudges of lube, and a damp patch which was forming under Pete.

   
Pete shrugged, “S’fine.”

   
Patrick smirked, ”Roll onto your belly.”

   
Pete raised an eyebrow and did as he was asked, shoulder blades loose and ass cheeks pink.

   
Patrick disappeared again for a second, only to reappear, hands spreading apart Pete and licking into him until Pete was honest to God giggling and saying, “You’re gonna give me another fucking boner dude, stop.”

   
Patrick grinned and dipped his tongue into him, before sitting back, “I’m gonna get a towel.”

   
Pete hummed and nodded, “Noted.”

 

~*~

   
By the time they were all cleaned up and the bed was at least in slightly better shape than before, Pete was fast asleep.

   
Patrick smiled and stroked at his hair, taking off his glasses and placing them next to Pete’s phone.

   
It felt good.

   
Normal.

   
He curled around Pete, spooning up against him.

   
Then realising that Pete still had the stupid skirt on.

   
He sighed and then couldn’t help but laugh, moving back to cuddle Pete, despite he felt a bit comfortable with the leather against his skin.

   
God fucking dammit Charlie.


End file.
